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A Halcyon Community Center, September 2nd 2019 The reaper sighs. It had gone from sun to moon and back at least four times now. This city is so much harder to traverse than her home, though it can't possibly be larger. Everyone seems to know who the Big Team is, but nobody has been able to tell her how to find them - assuming they respond to her at all and don't run away. The flat screens have shown moving images of them doing things around the city (or so they say), but she hasn't seen any herself. This body only seems to get more uncomfortable as time passes. Do humans feel like this all the time? Her midsection started out fine, but now it goes between a dull ache and twisting pain. Her mouth was wet initially but then it went completely dry. Everything feels so heavy, and sometimes her head gets light and fuzzy so that it's hard to stay upright. It even takes effort to keep these eyes from closing. The robed figure turns a corner and looks around. Has she been here already? Somehow it's all started to look pretty much the same. Shaking her head, she continues trudging forward with head down and shoulders slumped. One foot- other foot- an unsteady wobble- then only blackness as the strange girl collapses to the ground. “Let's take a look here. Pulse seems fine, lips chapped, no obvious wounds; probably dehydrated. Better get you inside." Chris looks at the little girl who’d brought him over. "Thank you, Catherine, I’ll take it from here. You can go back to the pool with your friends.“ The little girl nods and runs back inside. “How did you even get out here? Well, here we go, miss.” With a light grunt, Chris picks up the young woman. “Let's get you inside where it's cool. How long have you been wandering outside? What parents even let you leave the house in a black robe in this heat.” A pair of kids run hollering in the other direction with their crayons as Chris carries the young woman down the hall, The sight of Mr. Crossover stops the screeching and their buggy curious eyes glue straight on him. Bringing her into the new rec room, he puts her on the couch and gives a stern look to the audience. They freeze but remain perched at the edge of the door as he heads over to the kitchen island to get a cup of water from the water cooler. Reaching for the cupboard, he grabs a blue square plastic cup and brings it over to the young woman. He tilts her head up and brings the water to her lips. She reflexively swallows as the liquid trickles in. The teen's face relaxes to a less pained expression and her breathing evens out to a more restful sleep but she does not wake. Not for a few more hours at least. Eventually her eyes slide open - one a bright luminous blue, the other a deep golden brown. She immediately sits up, then tries to stand only to waver and fall back against the cushions. Her gaze falls on the nearest person and she focuses on them, mouth not moving yet words coming through clearly in their mind. "What happened? Where am I? Who are you?" There's no alarm or hostility in the mental tone, simply questions seeking answers. Even her facial expression remains neutral. There's a giggle as a little middle schooler with light brown hair in a bob and a tiny gap in her teeth smiles, peeking through the open door. “I’m Krissy, why are your eyes different colors?” The reaper blinks and tilts her head slightly. At least this one wasn't scared off. She responds mentally again. "Because they are." The answer seemed obvious to her, but perhaps it was strange to one so young. “They’re very pretty, how do I get my eyes to look like that?” Krissy takes a half step, putting herself just at the precipice of the rec room cliff. Leaning forward, the girl tests her ability to stand again. Her body still really doesn't want to. How inconvenient… "Why would you want to change your eyes? Then they wouldn't be yours anymore. A person's eyes are uniquely theirs. None are the same." Krissy retreats into the hallway, with just one brown eye peeking in. “Eyes aren't unique, everyone I know has brown ones. Mr. Crossover says you shouldn’t do that. That I’m resposabull to make sure you stay right there. He went to get you some leftover wings and says he thinks you’ll want some when you wake up and that if you go walkin around you’ll hurt yourself.” Well if somebody wants her to stay here for now, this body seems to be agreeing with them. She leans back against the couch cushions and relaxes, eyelids drooping. "Colors may be similar, but the closer you look the more unique they are. It's harder to see it with human eyes… Who is a 'Mr. Crossover'? Why would I want wings? I don't need them. If they're leftover, did someone else lose theirs?" Krissy slowly enters the room and leans on the cushion at the far end of the couch. "If you say so. No one lost them, they just didn’t eat them. Mr. Crossover is a superhero. He plays basketball, tells amazing stories during storytime, and he showed me how to do cartwheels. He says if I try really hard that I can become an OHlympian. So when he says to do something you should do it...” The mismatched eyes go wide open and suddenly she feels much less tired for a moment, focusing on Krissy intently. "He's a superhero? Does he know people called the Big Team? Please, I've been looking for them since I left the Eternal Pathways- Where is he?" Fog begins to emerge around the reaper, levitating her up slightly. If she can't walk, maybe she can still fly- through the waning strength does indeed seem to be affecting her abilities too. But she can't miss this opportunity to speak with someone who might be able to help her. A tall blonde bearded man carrying a set of folded clothes under his arm and a plate of steaming hot wings enters the room. He places his hand on the little girl's head leaning forward on the couch with her eyes full of wonder and fear. “Krissy, you did a very good job keeping my friend company. Ready to go home now? Your mother is outside ready to pick you up. Also,” Mr. Crossover gets down on one knee. “Don’t tell anyone about our friend the ghost here. She’s our new secret house guest, okay?” The girl nods rapidly and runs off down the hall. He walks to the center of the room and reaches under his arm to retrieve the clothes and place and place them on the table. “Would you please stop that before anyone else sees you? You're very lucky I left Krissy here and not anyone else or you might have caused a panic.” The teen wreathed in fog blinks at him, seeming somewhat confused by everything that just happened. She glances over her shoulder, then down at herself, before looking back at the man and speaking into his mind. "Stop what exactly? Are you the superhero Mr. Crossover? Also, I'm- not a ghost. I think in this realm you might call me a… grim reaper?" She glides toward him, mist spreading across the floor. “I’m not a superhero, but I know a few if that’s what you're after. And I’d like you to stop with your reaper wispiness before you scare some of the visitors. While you're at it, stop using that telepathy as well. It's very rude to do so in this realm you might freak someone out next time. Now- you might call yourself a grim reaper, but if my time in the WHO taught me anything you're most certainly human as well. I doubt grim reapers get dehydrated." He waves the plate of wings just underneath her nose and smiles. "Oh. Not a superhero…" The disappointment is clear. She works her mouth a bit, as if struggling to form the words before a halting attempt with almost no inflection. "Sor- sorry. Unused to- voice. Mortal vessel… di- difficult. 'De-hydrate'? Lacking... liquid?" Her mouth suddenly fills with moisture when he brings the strong-smelling food closer, stomach grumbling as she tilts her head curiously. The fog dissipates as she slowly lowers to the ground… Followed by the teen's legs promptly buckling under her weight, still weak from hunger and sleep deprivation. Christopher puts the plate of wings onto the table before pulling out the two folding chairs. He extends both hands toward the young girl to help her up. “You haven’t been in ‘this realm’ very long have you?” The reaper shakes her head, accepting assistance into the chair. “Well- how long is… ‘very long’? Not used to- keeping track. But there’s been- four cycles of dark and light?” She looks at the plate of food again, then looks back at him. Christopher sits down in the seat next to her. “I see... well you see, human bodies require constant maintenance. You need to intake fluids like water every cycle or you’ll be dehydrated. You’ll collapse like you just did on the floor or outside the community center. If there’s no one around, you could end up in serious trouble. Humans also need to need to eat, preferably at least twice a day, like so.” Christopher picks up a wing and holds it in demonstration as he uses both hands and takes a bite, chewing deliberately for a bit before swallowing. “Be careful to avoid the bones while you eat. It’s pretty good and can be very tasty. Why don’t you give it a try?” She cautiously picks up one of the wings and looks at it closely. “I’ve seen them eat before. And intake fluids. I- did not know they were required to. Sometimes they appear to die from it.” The words seem to be coming a bit easier now, though her tone remains flat. The robed girl takes a bite, mimicking Christopher’s chewing and swallowing. There’s mild surprise on her face at the realization that it’s somehow- enjoyable? Satisfying. She takes another bite, hits the bone, frowns, then readjusts to just get meat again. “How do you like it? You’re free to eat as much as you like. When you’re finished, take these.“ Christopher slides over a spare set of baggy jeans and a light blue t-shirt. “The other part of that maintenance includes taking a shower and washing your robes. Once you’ve eaten, there is a private shower down the hall you can use. The key is in the pocket of the jeans. When you're done, we can talk about why you're on this plane and where you're going to stay while doing it. You’ll find me in my office. There is a big C on the door- down the hall to the right.” Christopher pats the famished young lady’s shoulder and starts to get up from the chair. "I think- I like it?" The reaper continues munching, listening closely to his instructions and doing her best to interpret their meaning. When he starts to get up, she reaches out and touches his arm. "Thank you... for this. But- do you know how I can find the Big Team? I've been searching..." He smiles widely, and reaches and places his hand over hers “Soon. First, that maintenance.” He removes her hand from his arm and places it on the table. Walking over to the water cooler again, he fills one of the blue mugs and places it next to her on the table. “Drink this as well. Whatever reason you came here, you won’t be able to accomplish it without taking care of yourself first.” She watches him leave before continuing to eat and drink until the plate and mug are both empty. Looking at them for a moment, eventually she just leaves the dishes on the table without knowing what to do with them. Picking up the clothes, the teen attempts to follow Mr. Crossover's instructions. It takes a bit of fiddling to figure out turning on the shower, and the cold water isn't entirely pleasant. Eventually the young reaper finishes and finds her way to the described office and walks inside, borrowed clothes somewhat damp and hair still dripping. Sitting in his chair, Christopher looks up to see the dripping young girl and blinks rapidly. “Close the door and stay there a moment, please.” He rolls his chair to the corner, opens his locker, and rustles through the bag until he finds the clean towel and pulls it out. “Umm, that’s my mistake. You’ll need to use this to remove the water… from the outside... of the... Just use this to dry your hair for now." He tosses the towel toward her. ”Also grab that raincoat on the rack behind you and put it on. I'll ask one of the female coordinators to explain bathing more completely once we’ve talked.” At first she doesn't realize that she's meant to catch the cloth, almost letting it drop to the floor. "Oh. That makes sense." She drapes the towel on top of her head over the wet hair and puts on the coat, closing the door before looking at him expectantly. "Yes, I would like to talk." She's still standing just inside the door. “Please, sit down” He sweeps an open palm toward the chair. “Before, I answer your questions, I need to know a little bit about you. What should I call you? Do you have a name? Why do you need to find the Big Team?” Sitting down, she looks thoughtful. Her mouth opens and closes a few times as she tries to form something that's clearly difficult. Eventually she gives up and sends something into his mind again. It's a strange sensation, like a short haunting melody tickling at the edge of his perception. "I'm not sure there's a way to- speak- my name. But you can call me what I am. I need to find the Big Team so I can save people. I've seen them do it before." Christopher shifts a bit awkwardly in his chair for a moment. “How does Grim sound?” She simply gives a nod, so Christopher continues. “Save people? Saving people is not something you do without reason. Just because you saw someone else do it doesn’t mean it should be for you as well." Grim tilts her head slightly, expression unchanged. "Why do humans do it? I see death all the time. It's only natural for things to die. But until that time comes, there's always a chance for them- not to die. I've seen that too. I've been sent to many places when someone is going to be at the threshold, to guide them when they cross, only to have them pulled back from the brink. Often, the souls we guide wish they had lived longer or are happy with the lives they had. Death will always be waiting. But why not help there be life a while longer. When I can." She finds herself breathing a bit faster after speaking so many words at once. Christopher smiles. “A good answer. You’ve been thinking this through for a while. Many members of the big team join and fight because it’s either the only way they know, or others have decided for them. How long will you be staying with us in this realm, Grim?” “In a way, time doesn’t exactly move where I’m from. So you could say I’ve been thinking on it for a while, yet also almost not at all. Is there something wrong with doing a thing because it’s all you know? Or because others have decided? The young one Krissy seemed to think your decisions were important.” Grim’s eyes remain locked on the man, almost unblinking in their focus. “I don’t know how long I will remain… If this body dies, I will return home. The other reapers may also wish for my return eventually. I did not ask before venturing on this course. So I will stay until I am gone.” “There is nothing inherently wrong with it, but it can lead to a very unsatisfying life. And someone who had adopted a life as you have should make the most of it. I will look into the Big Team for you, but in the meantime I would like you to stay at the community center and help out here. This place will give you a chance to understand the kinds of people you’re looking to save, like Krissy...” “I see. I can’t promise I will spend all my time here. But I will help how I can.” Grim stands up and approaches Christopher Crossover. Without warning, she places a hand on his chest and looks at his face for a moment before closing her eyes. When they open again, she looks- pleased? Perhaps satisfied. She pulls her hand back. “Yes. I will trust you. You shouldn’t lie though. That you’re not a hero. I’ve felt their souls before. Always uniquely… inspiring.” Christopher places his hand over where Grim had touched him, the sensation was odd it felt like someone had reached in and touched his heart, and when the hand was removed it left a ghost sensation that a small hole had just closed. “Um, your words are very kind and… I don’t know if I'd take it that far, but I’ve always done what I felt was right when push came to shove. I’m not sure if that makes anyone a hero or not.” Christopher pauses, at a loss for words. Grim continues to look up at him, expression blank yet inquiring. Her mismatched eyes hold a strange almost unsettling intensity. "What do you think makes someone a hero?" “I’m not sure I have words for it, but- when I look into someone's eyes, I feel like I can see who it is they want to be. And when I’m able to ignite that dream, in that moment, I feel like I am being a hero to those kids that look up to me." Cyclone blinks as if breaking free from a daydream. “Um, I think that’s enough for today. Mrs. Kissinger is right next door. Let her know you’ll be staying here for the night and she’ll help you get settled.” Grim gazes at him a few moments longer, then nods and looks down at the floor. "As you wish…" She turns and walks away, passing through the closed door out into the hallway. Over the next couple of days, the reaper isn't easily spotted around the community center and Christopher begins to wonder if she's even there at all. But at least once a day she appears (usually seeking food or drink) and will do whatever tasks he requests without complaint. The tasks are finished quickly and well, but Grim is once again nowhere to be found afterward. Category:Grim Category:Scenes